


Comfort Zone

by coolangelsthesis



Category: Watch Dogs (Video Games)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Fluff and Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-21
Updated: 2019-05-21
Packaged: 2020-03-09 08:32:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18913318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coolangelsthesis/pseuds/coolangelsthesis
Summary: Marcus and Wrench exchange secrets, teenage slumber party style. It turns out to be a little much for Wrench.





	Comfort Zone

**Author's Note:**

> I've been in a bad place, yet somehow managed to write something I don't dislike? score one for me. 
> 
> Thanks to [DramaticalHearts](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kusokawaii/pseuds/DramaticalHearts) for beta-ing, as always! <3

“I’ll only show you mine if you show me yours first,” Wrench said with a flash of a wink. “Deal?”

Marcus frowned even harder. “Oh, come on, that’s not fair.”

“It’s totally fair! For starters, I have no fucking idea where mine are. Plus, I already know you have a folder of mini-Marcus.”

“Wh— How do you know that?”

“I know you, dude. You like staying organized and taking photos of yourself, it only makes sense.”

Marcus hardened his gaze. “Did you hack into my phone?”

“What, Marcus, no! That’s Prime_Eight shit, I swear I would never fuck around in your stuff. Promise. You’re just predictable and I know you very well.” Wrench scooted in closer, ungracefully draping one of his legs across Marcus’ lap. “I happen to know you quite _intimately_ , some might say.”

Marcus pushed his leg off, choosing instead to close the space between them. “Whatever, I’m not predictable.”

“See? I predicted you’d say that!”

Wrench flashed carets at him and he probably, definitely had a shit-eating grin on under the mask.

“Fuck off,” Marcus laughed. “Fine, deal, whatever.”

He glanced over his shoulder around the Hackerspace. It was empty and it looked like nobody was planning on dropping by any time soon. Good.

Marcus took initiative by leaning in closer and taking a hand to Wrench’s mask. He pushed it up just enough to catch Wrench in a quick kiss.

The mask briefly flashed exclamation points before Wrench took it off the rest of the way, setting it down on the couch beside him.

Wrench kissed him back softly, a distraction as a hand reached into Marcus’s pocket and pulled out his phone. “I’m right, though, right?”

“Give me that— _thank you_ — and I’m not telling.” Wrench was, though. The folder was hidden deep thanks to his custom encryption on the DedSec OS.

Marcus pushed Wrench away when he tried to look at his screen. He typed in his password to the hidden files, revealing a treasure trove of all the stolen files, illicit shit, and secrets he’d collected over the years. That and a few other things he couldn’t bear to let go of yet… like these.

He selected a folder he jokingly labelled as ‘The Bad Times’ and tossed the phone in Wrench’s lap. “Go wild.”

Wrench stared at Marcus’s phone for all of ten seconds before a dumb grin made its way onto his face and remained fixed there. He beamed, like, actually beamed. Happy enough to take off jumping and skipping.

“Oh my god, these are incredible.” He continued flipping through the photos, his grin somehow growing with each pic. “I now possess the ultimate leverage: photos of nerdy teen you!”

“Wrench. Don’t you dare send yourself any of them.”

Wrench’s phone went off in his pocket. “Too late!”

Laughing to hide his embarrassment, Marcus leaned over and stared at the photo Wrench was currently enraptured by.

Marcus was maybe thirteen and was proudly showing off a T-shirt with all of the original 151 Pokémon. He remembered saving up his allowance for that thing.

He had the same large, charismatic grin, but with a rounder, chubbier face, wire-rimmed glasses, and poofier hair. Prime dork material.

“God, you were so cute,” Wrench said, then paused. “ _Still_ cute, but… you know what I mean. I wanna squish baby Marcus’s cheeks.”

“You would have scared him away with all the spikes and shit, dude.”

“Baby Wrench would have tried to say baby Marcus’s shirt was cool, you know. Except he never talked to anyone, like, ever.”

Wrench flipped to the next and final photo— and nearly lost his mind.

It was of Marcus at seventeen in a homemade Vegeta cosplay, posing with a couple of old friends in equally terrible outfits.

“Oh my god.” Wrench finally took his eyes away from the phone to look at Marcus. “Marcus was an otaku.”

“Was?” Marcus grinned back. “There’s one thing a Saiyan always keeps— his pride.”

“ _Oh my god_ , you goddamn nerd, I love you.”

Wrench then took Marcus’s face in his hands and pulled him in for a kiss. After briefly pulling away, he tried again with tongue but Marcus pushed him away, knowing better.

Wrench wasn’t getting out of this that easily.

“Your turn,” he said, ignoring the rejected puppy-dog look Wrench gave him. “Time to show me mini-Wrench.”

Wrench paused.

“Well, if you insist…” He motioned towards the Wrench Bench. “I got a couple over there, you see ‘em? I got all sorts of wrenches, different sizes, I’m sure you can find one you like. Or I’ve got a mini-Wrench down here,” he gestured to his crotch, “if you want that instead?”

Not giving Wrench the rise he wanted, Marcus just stared him down. Eventually, Wrench gave in with a sigh.

“Ugh, okay fine.” He pulled out his phone and began typing. “Give me a second, I’ve got like only one pic that I haven’t been able to wipe from the internet entirely and I can’t remember where it is. This may come as a surprise, but I don’t like having my picture taken. Without the mask, anyway.”

“I could have never guessed.” Marcus smiled despite something tugging at his heart. Wrench was a good-looking guy. But Marcus knew he would never believe him.

As Wrench delved deep into his search, Marcus began to wonder what teen Wrench was like. Probably a lot like Wrench now, except more subdued. Or maybe even worse? Not really sure of who he was yet— more than the normal amount of teenage existential dread. Shy, probably. Smart? The kind of kid who never showed up to class and you only saw around school getting into fights with the exhausted teachers. Definitely the John Bender type.

It took a while, long enough that Marcus was starting to think Wrench was stalling, but eventually Wrench presented his phone. “Here. That’s all I got.”

It was a heavily artifacted photo of a group of teens, all donned in black with various assortments of chains, baggy pants, fake piercings, and _way_ too much eyeliner. Pretty much par for the course of what Marcus was expecting. It took him a moment to figure out which one was Wrench.

It was no wonder why it was so hard to find him. He was just a blond mop of hair trying to cover up as much of the birthmark as possible. He was wearing a metal band T-shirt with red flannel overneath and tattered, ripped-up jeans. _Always with the ripped-up clothing_ , Marcus thought to himself.

He was sitting furthest away from the camera, too, his discomfort of having his photo taken rolling off of him in waves. He looked sad, too. More tired than any teenager should be. Not from lack of sleep, but deeper exhaustion. The weight of the world bearing down on you.

Marcus wanted to reach in and give young Wrench a big hug. From the brief pieces of information Wrench had offered up of his childhood— from shitstains of parents, to jumping around several chaotic foster homes, to constant bullying about the birthmark or the nose or being fucking weird— he sure needed one.

Now that he felt all sad and guilty, Marcus looked up from the phone and towards Wrench. He wasn’t all that different from the Wrench in the photo now, with arms drawn together tightly, discomfort written over his face. Like he was trying _really_ hard not to think about crying.

Nope. He was definitely starting to cry.

“Shit, Wrench, are you okay?” Marcus moved quickly, wrapping a hand around Wrench’s shoulders. “I’m sorry. Fuck, man, I’m so sorry. I shouldn't have pressured you, I didn’t know.”

“Marcus…” Wrench sighed, voice heavy from holding back tears. “It’s... it’s fine. I’m fine. Don’t apologize, you didn’t do shit.” He wiped his eyes then moved into Marcus’s touch. The embrace morphed into a tight hug. “Just brought up bad memories, is all. I’ll be okay.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Wrench shook his head, tucking himself away into Marcus’s shoulder. “Not… right now. Maybe later. Like long-time-from-now later.”

“You got it.” Marcus gently rubbed circles into Wrench’s back. “Can I do anything for you?”

“... Mask, please?” Wrench looked at him apologetically. “Sorry. Need a little break, I think.”

“No need to be sorry. I get it.”

Marcus reached over and offered the mask to Wrench. Wrench took it, paused, then kissed Marcus once more before fitting the mask back into place. It flashed as it booted up, before settling on two downcast brackets.

“Thanks, Marcus. You’re too good for this planet.”

Marcus squeezed him a little tighter, smiling. “I told you already, I’m Saiyan.”

Wrench laughed softly beneath the mask. Marcus was glad to cheer him up, if only a little.

**Author's Note:**

> [Song for title inspo](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7phoVOFuKeQ).  
> How long did you think this was going to be about dick pics.... I just think Wrench being comforted is neat okay
> 
> Thanks for reading! Comments/kudos are always appreciated and always make me go all warm and fuzzy inside <3 find me on tumblr @ vurtkonnegut or twitter @ noizomi_, i'm always soft for wrencus


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